


namesake

by Hillena



Category: Skyfall (2012) - Fandom
Genre: M/M, Omegle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-25
Updated: 2013-05-25
Packaged: 2017-12-12 22:02:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/816543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hillena/pseuds/Hillena
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>
  <i>unbeta'd.</i>
</p>
    </blockquote>





	namesake

**Author's Note:**

> _unbeta'd._

James, come over and bring whiskey.  _Q_

Christ. Did something happen?  _007_

Sort of, yeah.  _Q_

Also rum and scotch. Please and thank you.  _Q_

You're going to drink me dry. But I'll be there  
in a few, yeah?  
 _007_

I'll trade you alcohol with bacon.  _Q_

Deal.  _007_

\--

James pocketed his phone and began to walk over to his alcohol cabinet before figuring that new, full bottles would probably be best. He grabbed his jacket and headed out, stopping by and splurging on ridiculously expensive booze before making his way to Q's flat. Once there, he gave a quick knock.

Q sprinted out of his room like a little boy on christmas day, excited for his presents. He opened the door, James on the other side, "Hellllllo, James," He slurred, giving him a lopsided smile, "Gimme that," He snatched a bottle from him, deeming it scotch. After opening, he took a large swig, "And hello to you to," He smiled at the bottle, making his way to his sofa, smiling contentedly.

James arched an eyebrow at Q's enthusiasm. "Are you drunk?" he asked, mildly amused as he set the bottles down on the coffee table and dropped into the seat next to Q.

"Tipsy," He said, sporting a pout. "If I. if I were druh-drunk, I'd be a sad one. Am-'m far too coheer--coherent to-to be a sad drunk." He took another swig at the scotch, "Why is talking so hard?" he groaned, rubbing at his eyes.

James snorted, grinning and plucking the bottle out of Q's hands and taking a sip of his own. "Because you are drunk beyond comprehension." he replied firmly, "I've never seen you this over your head. Hell, have you ever been this drunk?"

"I-I-I-I used to be like this once-- once a week," He mumbled against his knees, "Then I got promo-- promo--" He groaned again, "I b-b-became Q and then," He made an exploding noise and gestured with his hands.

James' brow creased into a frown. He knew what it was like to get drunk of your arse at least once a day, hell, even twice a day. He knew the problems alcohol could solve and he knew the ones that it couldn't. He cleared his throat. "Do you...do you need to talk?" he asked, knowing it was a bold step.

His brows knitted together, "What?" He waved a hand dismissively, "What, no! No, no, no, no, no. I'm fine. It's-- It's fun. I-I-I rrrrrarely lose myself." He buried his face in between his knees, "I just-- 'm always in my head 'nd-- And-- Live in the moment, y'know?" He looked up to see a blurry figure of James, "'m not makin' sense, am I?"

"No, you're not." James replied drily, though a touch gentler, "You sound like a hipster uni student high on trash."

Q pointed his forefinger at him, looking triumphant, "That!" He yelled, a crooked smile on his face, "I used to be like that." He lowered his finger and opened another bottle, "I wasn't a trash though. No, no, no, no. I used to go to parties everyday and I'd still pass my classes."

"I don't doubt it." James murmured around another sip of scotch, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. Q was so damn young. "There's a reason you're Q, you know."

"James," Q groaned, "James, make me some coffeeee."

"You're ridiculously high maintenance, you know that?" James quipped back, reaching over and ruffling Q's hair as he got up. "I'd tell you to go make your own damn coffee if you didn't look like shit about to fall over."

"Guess what my name is," He follows James into the kitchen, wobbling slightly as he walked, "What is my nammmmme."

"Ben." James said, taking a shot in the dark as he rooted around Q's kitchen for some mugs and coffee grounds.

"Tha's me dad's name," He sat himself onto the counter, flailing his legs like a child would, "My name is in this room," He then added, "Wait, that doesn't make sense."

James put the grounds in and waited for the coffee maker to do its magic. "No, that's bloody ridiculous. Give a clue?"

"It has two vowels, 'nd three consonants." He opened a cupboard and took out a plain white mug, "Easy as pie." He giggled.

"Oh, very specific." James said with a roll of his eyes, wracking his brains for a five-letter name that met the conditions.

"James," He laughs, almost dropping his mug, "James."

James shot Q an odd look. "You're serious?"

"Yes!" He scoots closer, wrapping his arms round James' neck, giving him his come hither look and a breathy tone, "James."

James' lips quirked up at the corners almost involuntarily as he blinked at Q. "No. You're drunk." he said, matter-of-fact.

Q raised an elegant brow at him, "Am I?" He giggles, jumping off the counter and back to the sofa, "Coffee!" He bellowed like Thor.

James rubbed at his temples. "I'd better be getting a fucking pay raise for this." he called back, pouring the coffee into two mugs and then, thinking it best, splashing a liberal amount of whiskey into his.

"Hey! What about me?" He opened a bottle of rum and poured some into his, "Clink," He said into the air and drank his one-part-rum-and-one-part-coffee coffee.

"You're going to have the worst fucking hangover come morning and i am going to laugh." James retorted, all but collapsing back onto the sofa.

"Eh. I've had better days. At least when I wake up you'll be here, right?" He moved a little farther away from him by millimetres, "Right?" he added quietly.

James studied Q's face for a moment. "I..." he trailed off for just beat, "...yeah. I'll be here."

"I'm suppressing the urge to lunge for a hug," He said behind his mug.

James sighed, exasperated and exhausted. "Come here." he said, opening his arms.

He sets down his mug and wraps his arms around his waist, pressing his face to the crook of his neck, smelling of musk, scotch and gun powder, "love you," And he realizes what he'd said, "Whoops."

"I'm going to blame that on the alcohol." James says simply, "God, you're all skin and bones."

"Don't ever call me by my name, 'kay?" He mumbled, "It's going to sound weird and strange and like you're calling yourself."

James laughed softly, "Don't think I ever could, anyway." he replied.

"You smell nice," He looked up at James, "Remind me of this tomorrow, okay?"

"Are you sure about that?" James asked sceptically.

"Uh-huh," he rested his head atop the double-O's chest, "Tell me ev'rythin' in th' morning."

James dipped his head slightly, nosing at Q's hair. "Will do."

\--

Q had a massive hangover when he woke up on the sofa but before he could remedy that, he felt something under him. Something firm, he felt something in the spaces between his fingers, legs intertwined with his. He scrambled up to see who it was, his hands on each side of the body, it was James. Then looked at himself, his clothes still on him, okay.

 _Q_ was above _James_.

 _He slept on top of_ a warm body that was _James_.

James blinked his eyes open as he felt the comfortable weight lift from his chest. "Q?" he asked blearily, not quite awake.

"Shut up," Q breathes, "Shut  _the fuck up_. Ow, hurts. Hate. Hate," he hisses.

James chuckles, scrubbing at his face with one hand. "You've only got yourself to blame for that."

Q started pacing in circles, "Why, why, why, _why_."

"Ah," He directs himself into the bathroom and splashes water on his face, brushes his teeth and puts of his contacts. He was never really accustomed to wearing his glasses at home. He cards his fingers through his unruly mop of curls in an attempt to tame it.

"Okay, what happened?" He said as he picked up his mug of coffee from yesterday, smelling it, shrugging and took a sip.

James sits up, yawning. "Well, to be honest, you got drunk off your arse, made me make you coffee, and then told me you loved me." he said with a perfectly straight face.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid,  _stupid_ ," He said, each with a thump of his head against the kitchen's door frame.

"That never happened," He looked sternly at James, "Never. We forget about that and this," He gestures to his sitting room, "This never happened. Ever."

James smiled a little, "No, it didn't." he agreed simply.

"James, please," He looked desperately at him, "Please. I don't-- I can't. I don't want you but I do and it's going to hurt me and I don't want that and--" he breaks off, pleading, "Please?"

James understands. He actually, really does. "I know." he says, standing up and wincing at the cramps, "And I’m sorry." He steps around the coffee table and heads for the door in an easily practiced exit. "I'll see you at headquarters, yeah?"

Before he's out the door, Q catches his arm, "Wait," He put a hand on James' cheek and pressed a gentle, languid kiss on his lips. "Okay." He said when he pulled away.

James stilled momentarily and it took a good bit of will power not to chase after Q when he pulled away. "Yeah." he said, uncharacteristically softly, before slipping out the door.

\--

Q finds a little post-it note on his office door.

_i love you too,_  
 _my dear namesake._

James smiles at that.

"Namesake," He echoes.


End file.
